


Finn's Burden

by bluntblade



Series: Tales from the Timeskip [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Battle, Canon-Typical Violence, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Jessika Pava mentioned, POV Finn (Star Wars), Phasma's End is canon to this work, Poe Dameron mentioned - Freeform, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, The First Order Sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24238552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluntblade/pseuds/bluntblade
Summary: Finn struggles with his demons - and a First Order invasion. TreatsPhasma's Endas canon.
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Finn & Rose Tico, Finn/Rose Tico
Series: Tales from the Timeskip [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719019
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Finn's Burden

Finn pounded up the steps, blaster in hand. He reached the top of the city wall, and from here he could see Galba’s dark green seas breaking against the rokcrete. Standing here, one could almost believe the city was unbreakable, that it could weather anything thrown at it.

But Finn knew that was a mistake. This city was one of Galba's last holdouts against the First Order. Its fall was only a matter of time. The Resistance weren't here to hold the place, they were here to evacuate everyone they could and retrieve anything that would be of use against the enemy. 

Finn wouldn't kid himself; if the enemy were thrown back today, more would come tomorrow or in another few days. The defence shield shimmering overhead was the only reason the city still stood - that, and the First Order wanted its spaceport intact. 

So here they came now. “I see lights,” Rey said, binoculars raised. She wore a cloak over her armour in the chilly conditions, and it whipped and snapped in the coastal winds.

Finn stared out to sea, and sure enough, there were the pilot lights of First Order transports and TIE Fighters and Bombers. They were low, hugging the turbulent sea.

A murmur ran through the troops around them. There were Resistance troops here, but more of them were the native Levask: burly, long-tusked aliens who were almost as large and shaggy as Chewbacca.

Rey put a hand to her comms piece. “Kaydel, Rose, you getting this?” The two women were stationed in a bunker deep in the city, coordinating the defence.

Rose’s voice rang in Finn’s ears too - the whole squad was linked in. “Yes. Scanners count twenty TIEs, five gunships. Another formation of ten TIEs behind that - Poe’s got Black Squadron ready now.”

The enemy craft emerged from a curtain of lashing rain. The defence lasers on the walls - those which hadn’t been lost to previous attacks - opened up.

“They gonna hit where we think?” Finn chipped in. They’d made for a point on the walls where most of the turrets had been destroyed. Now lumps of charred and twisted metal lay on their beds.

“Yeah, you’re on the money. Just be careful,” Rose cautioned him.

Everyone else’s eyes flicked to Finn. He ignored them, hand still on his radio. “Always, sweetheart.” Then that hand returned to his blaster.

First Order transports were durable things. With the reduced defences, it took several shots from the turrets, and a few missiles from the troops on the walls, to take down even one of them.

The TIEs ran effective interference, soaking up ground fire and targeting the defence turrets. The ten who flew behind them rose into the air to fend off Black Squadron's counter-attack, and battle was joined above the city.

The gunships' hatches yawned open as they ascended to the walls, the Stormtroopers within already firing. The defenders returned it. Finn snapped off two shots and a pair of Stormtroopers tumbled into the spray and foam below. More joined them.

But the Stormtroopers were every bit as precise, and shots smacked home and dropped a dozen defenders. 

The gunships drew up as they reached the wall, and the front rank of Stormtroopers parted to allow others through, armed for close-quarters fighting. More of them were Riot Troopers, but some bore larger shields and vibro-pikes, an increasingly common armament among the legions. 

The Scrappers and the other defenders drew their own melee weapons and meant them with a clash of metal and the sizzle of energy fields meeting.

The battle heated up quickly. More gunships came, building on the foothold which the enemy had already bought with the lives of the first wave and setting up more. Despite the skills of Poe and his pilots, they couldn’t save all the turrets nor bring down all the enemy craft. Bit by bit, Galba’s defences were eroded.

Finn’s attention was mostly on the fighting around him, however. The Scrappers held their section of the wall against all comers, anchored by him and Rey. Their weapons lashed out again and again, pounding against armour.

Rey’s prowess and power had grown over the last two years. Where before she had grit and hard-worn skill, there was now a grace to her movements that only a Force-user could attain. Even without a lightsaber in her hands, that was clear to Finn. She was as quick as a nexu, and no less fierce.

Not that Finn himself hadn’t sharpened up over the course of their campaign. His reflexes and skill had been honed beyond the already impressive level that Stormtrooper training instilled.

And there was the other thing; the factor which had set him apart from his peers in some ways, made him such an exceptional marksman. Something which had lain dormant in him but was increasingly close to the surface. Only lately had he begun to understand just what it was. A connection to the Force.

He could discern it more readily now; the heightened awareness that at times bordered on precognition. The opening he saw when a Riot Trooper came at him, which had him pull back instead of parry and bring his maul snapping around to take his opponent under the chin. The instinct which had him slam a shoulder into that reeling trooper because the one behind was drawing a bead on him, and using the first as a shield of sorts. 

Finn felt powerful in those moments, alert to everything around him. He felt almost unstoppable.

But he didn’t feel righteous, taking out those who had been his own kind for so long. Under the adrenaline and the urges to survive and protect others, fulfil the mission, there was the question. What if he could find some way to tell them?

Even in the heat of battle, he couldn’t banish the memory of that moment, on the _Supremacy_. Seeing Stormtroopers falter when confronted with the truth about their masters. Seeing Phasma’s fear and her murderous reaction.

Perhaps this Riot Trooper might have hesitated had Finn only had a chance to get the words out. Maybe the Stormtrooper behind him could be convinced, and Finn wouldn’t need to smash his maul into the man’s chest so hard that the armour cracked. Perhaps they would have made allies and friends, had there only been the chance.

But here and now, there was no chance, no time to persuade anyone to listen and to make a case. No chance to show the Stormtroopers that there was another way. Just as on any other occasion, the urge to win and survive won out.

So he fought on, until a shout caught his attention. He looked for the source and saw a First Order officer, armoured in black and white but with his face exposed. A short cape billowed behind him.

The officer drew a vibro-sword and flourished it. Everything about his movements spoke of haughtiness and cruelty. “Traitorous scum!” he barked at Finn.

Finn knew this breed of officer. They were relatively rare, but you saw them more and more among the First Order. The kind of zealots who wanted to emulate the example of Darth Vader and now Phasma and Kylo Ren, wading into battle with their soldiers. The kind who liked getting their hands dirty, and insisted on carrying out executions in person.

Now, Finn felt his zeal and anger come to the fore. He fell into a run, barking a wordless challenge. 

This one was good. Most of his kind went down quickly, but Finn's opponent responded gamely to the attack, his parries ripostes quick and economical. The sneer, and the hunger for a kill, never left his face.

An experienced duellist, then. Someone who'd killed Rebels in the melee before. Noted.

Finn played to his enemy's arrogance, falling back a little and letting him go on the attack. It was risky, letting the officer lead this violent dance, but Finn was used to this.

Most of the times he won a spar with Rey, this was how he did it. Letting the enemy show their hand, let them get overconfident while he identified an opening.

And then - _strike_.

His feet left the ground as he committed to the swing, adding gravity to the force of the blow. The downward arc of the maul ended at the officer’s temple. Blunt-force trauma or the broken neck ended the fight, whichever got to him first.

_That_ was satisfying.

Finn paused to get his breath back, blood singing in his ears. As a result, Rose’s words didn’t quite register for a few seconds.

“Finn, our fleet just jumped in-system. We’re pulling out.”

For a moment, Finn stood, watching the sea and the rain and knowing that more First Order transports would be coming soon. 

Rose spoke again. “Finn.”

“I hear you, Rose.” He turned to the others. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Something eating you?” Rose asked sometime later, when they were back aboard the Resistance battleship _Aldera_.

“Uh huh,” Finn said. It was pointless to lie to her. She could always tell if something was up with him.

The Millenium Falcon was quiet. Everyone else had taken off for the canteen. It wasn’t exactly a celebration, because Galba wasn’t a victory, not really. You couldn’t plant a flag and give a grand speech at the end of a rescue mission. You just had to take stock of the lives you’d saved, the resources you’d secured and what the enemy’s conquest had cost them, and hope that it would matter in the long run.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Finn accepted a mug and ration pack from Rose, and took a breath. “Yeah, I think I should. This is wearing on me, Rose.”

She looked puzzled. “The fighting?”

He frowned. “Not exactly.” Rose waited patiently while he gathered his thoughts, taking another bite from the ration pack. 

“It doesn’t get any easier,” he started, “killing Stormtroopers. Knowing I could’ve so easily ended up like any of them, but also knowing that just maybe - right time, right place, they could’ve been like me. They’re all victims of the First Order too, but I haven’t been able to save any of them.”

Rose waited patiently, so he ploughed on.

“And since I fought Phasma, I’ve known for certain that that potential is there. I’ll always fight for the Resistance, for you and all our friends, but I just want one chance to take some of Ren’s slaves and liberate them. To make them see that there’s another way.”

“I think,” she began hesitantly, worried about striking the wrong tone, “that it’s good you’re thinking like this. You wouldn’t be yourself if you forgot where you came from, Finn.”

Finn took hold of her hand and smiled faintly. “But can we do anything with that, Rose? Is there any way apart from fighting them?”

Rose sighed. “Honestly Finn, that’s a conversation you should have with Poe. He’s got Leia’s ear, and maybe we can see about targeting a training centre or something.” She looked at him and shrugged. “I don’t know how doable that’d be, I admit. But if we suddenly had more than one former Stormtrooper on our side, that would be its own rallying cry to the Galaxy.”

Finn felt a proper smile breaking out on his face. “And that’d get Hux and Ren both quaking in their boots.” He stood. “You’re right, Rose. I’ll talk with Poe about this sometime, after this fetch mission he’s talking about going to Sinta on.”

Rose got up too, and took his hand. Together, they strolled out of the Falcon and went to find their friends.


End file.
